The Saint’s Manual for Redemption - Chapter 29

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 29
Calianna Grainton had gained nothing from the stage that had been set for her. The upper echelons of the Religious Order were likely to view her performance with displeasure.
They had lavished such care on arranging a game for her to win, yet with Calianna failing to seize the prize, they could easily shift the blame onto her shoulders for this outcome.
Never mind that it was actually my own excellence that brought this about.
And judging by the character and temperament of those upper-order bastards, they were more than capable of doing exactly that.
The fact that the Temple had gone so far as to warn me in advance of the scheme they’d devised to destroy me, then tried to smuggle me overseas to prevent my death—that was worth acknowledging as genuinely decent.
So now it was my turn to help her.
“Candidate Calianna Grainton has entered the Main Temple as a High Priestess.”
What…?
“Although Caritas did not extend his hand in favor at the final moment, having received his selection once, they cannot expel her from the Temple, or so they say.”
The ending diverged sharply from what I’d anticipated. Normally, wouldn’t this be when they’d arrest Calianna? Or am I the only one who thinks that? Am I the trash here?
Whether I was confused or not, Arden continued his report.
“And so she is now Calianna Benedeo.”
Remarkable—others had to endure for decades, sometimes nearly a century, to earn the surname Benedeo, yet she’d acquired it in mere days of joining the Religious Order.
Given that she’d been designated as this generation’s Saint, and despite failing to seize the Saint’s position, she’d escaped censure entirely and instead claimed the rank of High Priestess in one fell swoop—there could be only one reason to account for it.
Connections. Pure connections.
“Whose daughter is she, anyway?”
“The Archbishop’s grand-niece.”
So she had quite formidable backing standing behind her.
That explained why they were bending over backwards to manufacture reasons to keep her tethered to the Temple.
Had our circumstances been reversed yesterday, I would have been dragged off on the spot by the Heretic Inquisitors lying in wait and received notice of my trial date while locked in the Underground Prison.
Still, the former candidate Calianna didn’t seem to have inherited her grand-uncle’s disposition. Neither had Arden; perhaps collateral lineage dilutes such temperament?
“And after yesterday’s matter concluded, we conducted a further inspection of the Plaza and discovered that the very ground where you were standing had been rigged to ignite with flames.”
Arden drew a gloved hand briefly across his face as he reported this, a faint shadow of disquiet crossing his features.
Had I been unable to counter and simply stood there facing those flames, they would have erupted not in front of me but beneath my feet, swallowing me whole.
“I couldn’t have fled the way Calianna did.”
Hmm, I’d been too generous in my assessment of my successors.
They’d genuinely intended to burn me on sight without a trial at all. The fact that receiving notice of a trial date now felt like the humanitarian option spoke volumes about these wretches. I offered them my respect.
Truly excellent, just excellent! May you rot.
“Even if they formally recognize you as Saint before the faithful, I suspect it won’t end there.”
I’d already anticipated as much. The very fact that they’d given me this room made their intentions transparent enough.
The remaining major event was the Saint’s Coronation Ceremony.
Once the ceremony was held, I would officially ascend to the position of the thirtieth Saint of the Caritas Religion.
The Caritas Religion had become the official state religion of the Arkenos Empire, and its leaders gained the right to use the title of Pope, yet our church had stubbornly maintained calling its leader a Saint for the past five hundred years.
I myself had no choice but to use the title of Saint since I was not a state religion, but refusing to call puppet Saints by the title of Pope—was that really necessary? Did their pride matter more than the founding of the first church?
Some of them dreamed their whole lives of being called Pope instead of Saint, for heaven’s sake. What kind of spite was this?
In any case, these useless successors were beyond help.
In any event, though the position of Saint had been reduced to a puppet’s seat in the present day, it still held a status comparable to that of a Pope, and the coronation ceremony was my sole opportunity to execute a massive propaganda campaign demonstrating that I ultimately went unchosen by Caritas.
Any attempt to dispose of me after the ceremony would be futile. Thanks to what happened in the Plaza spreading far and wide, people’s minds were already stamped with the image of me as the true Saint chosen by God. And in a little while, their interest would begin to fade.
One might think fading interest would be unfavorable to me, but it was far worse for the upper echelons of the Religious Order. In their minds, I would remain eternally the Saint chosen by God.
So I needed to stage a scene where God rejected me before a great multitude that included the faithful and the general populace, at the moment when attention on the Saint was at its zenith. Only then would they gain justification for casting me out, and public opinion would swing back to the Religious Order.
“Do you have a plan in mind?”
I shook my head briefly.
“It’s difficult when I don’t even know what tricks they’ve set up.”
“Well, I suspect you’ll navigate through this situation as well, Your Highness.”
There was not a trace of worry in Arden’s voice or expression as he nodded. To think that in merely two weeks he’d come to trust me this completely. Clearly I was the type who inspired faith—steady and dependable.
“Still, if you’d like, shall I gather some intelligence for you?”
Arden asked the question with subtle delicacy.
“If you’d go to such trouble, I’m grateful.”
I didn’t entirely trust Arden, but it seemed better to have some information to analyze than to proceed completely blind, so I nodded assent.
“By the way, today would be the last day I serve you as your guard, Your Highness.”
Weren’t we just having a cheerful, comfortable conversation moments ago?
Why the sudden farewell atmosphere? And why mention gathering intelligence for me if this was how it would go?
And I’ll have you know I have trauma from these unilateral declarations of parting. Deep, festering trauma sown by your collateral ancestor.
Unable to hide my bewilderment at his abrupt announcement of a “last day,” Arden added an explanation.
“Now that Your Highness is free to select your own Holy Knight as guard, you see.”
I’d heard that one could only attain the qualifications to become the next Commander of the Holy Knight Order by serving as a Saint’s guard. So Arden’s position as my guard was actually a competitive post among the Holy Knights.
I began to understand why Arden had offered to gather intelligence for me at this particular moment, which might be one of our last meetings.
By doing so, he’d make me want to keep him as my guard so I could continue receiving information. The intelligence was bait.
“Is that so? I find you agreeable, though.”
As Ciela smiled broadly, Arden’s expression didn’t flicker—he met her with an equally shameless grin.
“How honoring, that I should please the Saint.”
Yet for all his gallant words, Ciela had no real choice in the matter.
***
“Do you think the new Saint will choose you as her guard knight? And what of the chances she selects Rotberk instead?”
At his aide’s question, Arden stroked his chin before answering.
“I can’t say for certain. Her Highness still hasn’t let her guard down entirely.”
Even though the Main Temple had become a place where enemies surrounded them from every side, and Ciela had scarcely anyone else to depend on, she had never truly clung to him.
Unless he offered first, she wouldn’t reach out; even when help lay within her grasp, she would step back. She drew a careful line between trust and reliance.
Knowing that approach was the right one, Arden still found himself swallowing a quiet sigh.
He’d never meant to bend Ciela to his will. From the start, she was someone he couldn’t have done so with anyway.
Whenever Arden faced that cool countenance of hers, his resolve crumbled without fail, and he knew it all too well.
And yet—
There were moments, rare and fleeting, when he wondered if it might be acceptable for her to lean on him, even just a little.
Whether that yearning sprang from a protector’s selfishness, a knight’s arrogance, or something merely human, he couldn’t quite say.
“We’ve just received confirmed information regarding the Saint’s guard knight, my lord.”
Another of his aides approached from the Main Temple, fresh news in hand, and leaned close to whisper in Arden’s ear.
“The Order certainly has… quite the reach.”
At word of the Religious Order’s decision, Arden let out a low, bitter laugh.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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